


Snow in California

by mrbob



Series: 12 Days of Christmas [6]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, I don't care it's still december so it's still christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:00:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22021450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrbob/pseuds/mrbob
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: 12 Days of Christmas [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1570516
Comments: 5
Kudos: 29





	Snow in California

It was late, but Tony wasn’t about to move from the plush chair he was curled up on. The fireplace in front of him still smoldered a bit with glowing embers, though it had been hours since anyone had tended to it. Not that they really needed a fire going in Malibu, but Steve was a sucker for this kind of Christmas mood. Tony watched the colors move, orange and reds shifting gently across the black, making shadows move around in the otherwise dark room. Tony resolutely did not look at the clock, instead gluing his eyes to the fireplace and letting himself feel Steve’s presence wrapped around him; the softness of his sweatshirt under Tony’s hands, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, the small puffs of breath Tony felt on the top of his head every once in a while.

Tony nuzzled a little closer to the hollow of Steve’s throat, finally turning his face away from the dying fire, closing his eyes and breathing in the familiar scent of Steve. Steve, still sleeping, responded by tightening his arm around Tony’s back that was cradling him to his chest. Tony squeezed his eyes tight against the sudden burn there. He knew Steve’s alarm would go off in another hour or so, and that meant he’d have to leave to catch his early flight back to New York. And Tony would have to stay here, in Malibu. It was a cruel ending to the brief yet wonderful holiday Steve had managed to get from his work. They’d both spent the past few days more or less in a self-imposed exile in Tony’s house, oscillating between this chair, the kitchen, the bedroom, and, on one memorable night, the rooftop that was most definitely not made for sitting. Tony managed to catch the chuckle that wanted to escape at the memory before it left his lips so that it only came out as a breathy huff and small jerk of his shoulders.

He glanced up at Steve’s face, still set peacefully in sleep, and any other sounds Tony might have made were immediately taken away along with his breath. Steve was beautiful. The dying firelight cast shadows over the perfect curves and angles in his face, his dark eyelashes spread delicately on top of his cheekbones, mouth soft and just barely parted. The usual pinched look he carried around his eyes of late had been smoothed out completely over the past few days, but Tony knew it would be back as soon as he woke up and started to gather his luggage. It wouldn’t be hard, since Steve usually packed pretty light. Tony had told him he shouldn’t have even bothered with the unnecessary things like clothes, just grabbed a carton Sam’s mom’s homemade cookies and nothing else, but Steve had just rolled his eyes in response. He had always been planful like that.

Tony took a deep breath and finally braved a glance at the clock. Four in the morning. Later than he thought. Steve had to be out the door in forty-five minutes. Tony let the breath back out, and if it was a little shaky on the exhale, only he was awake enough to hear.

Four am also meant two other things. One, that he had been awake for bordering on 24 hours, and when Steve woke up he’d frown in that worried way of his when he realized Tony hadn’t slept all night, and offer to call an Uber to the airport instead, but Tony would be damned before he gave up any last second of alone time with Steve.

Two, it had officially been not-Christmas for four hours now. Tony wondered if that was too late for a Christmas miracle, and Steve’s flight wouldn’t magically be delayed by snow. Tony knows it’s a tall order to wish for a snowstorm in California, but if there’s any merit to this Christmas magic Steve’s talked about all month, let it show itself now, Tony begs silently to the big, jolly deity people worship for Christmas.

They’d drawn the curtains in an attempt to make it seem more like Christmas and less like summer outside for Steve, which also meant Tony couldn’t stare desperately out the window for signs of a flurry. He huffed again, turning back into the warm chest he was on and tightening his fingers in Steve’s sweatshirt. The chest in question took another, deeper breath, signaling to Tony his brooding might have disturbed Steve.

A hand rubbed up Tony’s back as he watched Steve’s eyes blink open slowly, taking in the darkness and the last embers in the fireplace before looking down and locking on Tony.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” he rumbled softly, eyes still half lidded but a small smile pulling on his lips.

“Good morning, Beloved,” Tony replied, a warm knot tugging in his chest, “Sleep well?”

“Better than you, it seems,” Steve frowned, “Did you sleep at all? I could call an Uber to the airport instead.”

“I’m fine, Steve,” Tony rolled his eyes, pushing lightly at Steve’s chest. “I’ve done more on less sleep than this.”

“That doesn’t make me feel much better,” Steve chastised, pushing a hand through Tony’s hair to get it out of his eyes. “You should take better care of yourself.”

“But then what would I keep you around for?” Tony asked

Steve stuck his tongue out at him, then let his head fall in the direction of the clock. “I should get up,” he sighed.

Tony responded by immediately flopping fully on top of Steve, burying his head in the crook of his neck, bringing both his arms up to wrap around his neck, and curling his knees so they rested more fully on Steve’s lap. “No,” Tony stated firmly, voice muffled.

Steve sighed again, wrapping his arms around Tony’s middle and squeezing back gently. “I know,” he cooed. “I don’t want to leave, but I have to.”

“You don’t,” Tony argued, head still buried in Steve’s neck. “Just quit your job, and school, and never go back to New York. Unless I go too. Because I do like New York, just not when it’s cold, or snowy, or rainy, or when you’re there without me.”

Steve let out another sigh, and Tony almost regretted bringing it up again. They both knew the distance would be hard, and Tony very much did not like thinking about the time Steve thought it would be easier to break up than be so far away. Tony was lucky he convinced Steve’s stubborn mind out of that, the last thing he wanted to do was put the idea back in his head.

They never really talked about how long this would last, because neither of them knew. Tony felt a clenching at the pit of his stomach at the thought, but, as if sensing the direction of his thoughts, he felt Steve’s hand gently pull his chin up to meet his gaze.

“I’m really glad I got to spend Christmas with you, Tony,” Steve whispered to him.

“You too,” Tony replied, just as soft.

Steve pushed his hair out of his eyes again and pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. “Go put on some pants, I’ll get all my things in the car and maybe we’ll have time to grab some breakfast and coffee on the way, yeah?”

“Okay,” Tony agreed reluctantly. He couldn’t help but dart in for one last kiss before he got up though, savoring the softness of Steve’s lips, the laxness of his body beneath his own, the warmth of the fire on his back, the last little taste of their short holiday together. Then he pried himself off of Steve’s lap to his bedroom so he could pull some sweatpants over his boxers. He looked around the room, which had been mysteriously tidied sometime during Steve’s stay, and his heart ached a bit at the absence of Steve’s things amongst his. When he’d walked in there yesterday morning he saw Steve’s dirty clothes in a neat pile by his own hamper, Steve’s charger and well-worn coy of Dickens sitting on the nightstand on what had become his side of the bed. He could have seen Steve’s toothbrush and soap sitting on the sink through the doorway to his bathroom. All the little reminders that Steve was in his life, gone like he hadn’t been there at all.

He shook his head, getting rid of the melancholy thoughts, and hurried out the door, now fully clothed, back to Steve. Steve was standing by the front door facing away from Tony, his duffle and backpack set down beside him, and his phone pressed to his ear. Tony slid up behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist, pressed his cheek between his shoulder blades.

“Okay, if you’re sure,” Steve was saying to whoever was on the other line. “We’ll have to keep an eye on it…Yeah, I have it with me. I can definitely take care of it…Uh-huh, you too, Sir. See you soon.” He ended the call and turned so he could face Tony and return the hug. “So that’s really crazy.”

“What is?” Tony frowned, leaning back to gaze up at him.

“That was my boss. There’s a snowstorm in New York big enough to have shut down the airports for at least the next day or two. No flights in or out.”

Hope blossomed in Tony’s chest. “Is he sending a special private jet to get you out there before the art world crumbles without you?”

Steve raised an eyebrow at him. “No, he told me to stay put. He’s sending a bunch of files my way to sort through though.”

Tony was suppressing a smile so hard his cheeks started to ache. “Darn, that sounds like you’re going to have to do it here in front of the fire with me around then.”

“I suppose it does,” Steve agreed, letting his own face break out in a smile.

Tony threw himself forward, wrapping his arms around Steve’s neck and all but leaping into his embrace. Steve laughed as he returned the hug just as enthusiastically.

“I didn’t actually leave, Tony, I don’t think I deserve the same homecoming I had when I first got here,” Steve told him, but Tony could hear the smile and excitement in his voice.

“So? I wanna do this every time I see you,” Tony mumbled into his shoulder. Steve responded by squeezing him a bit tighter and pressing a kiss to his temple. They stayed like that for a minute or two, and Tony sent a little ‘thank you’ up to whatever it was that answered his plea. Steve was here, maybe only for one short day, but that was one more day down before they got to spend the rest of their lives together.

Steve broke the silence by meekly saying, “I do really have to work today, though.”

“Okay, let me go take off my pants,” Tony replied, rushing back to the bedroom to throw his pants haphazardly at his dresser before returning to the living room where Steve was putting another log on the slowly dying fire. “You know, it’s technically not Christmas anymore, we don’t really have to keep up the Christmas aesthetic we had going on,”

Steve pouted at him. “I’m not ready to give it up yet,”

Tony rolled his eyes. “I guess we can keep Christmas until we finish all those cookies you made,”

Steve gave him a cheeky grin. “Well, maybe not that long. I did make a lot of cookies,”

“I love you,” Tony said, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Steve’s.

“I love you too, Tony,” Steve replied quietly, pressing a light kiss to his nose. “It won’t be like this forever.”

“I know,” Tony whispered, closing his eyes and wishing.


End file.
